


through and through

by deathtouch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemas, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23480320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtouch/pseuds/deathtouch
Summary: ☛ written for@RarePairOvw's Jack Morrison aka Soldier: 76 Rare Pair dayBaptiste was humming quietly while he worked, a tune Jack only recognized from hearing him hum it before. It was almost soothing in a way, bringing him down, the familiarity of it making him feel safe.“What are you smiling about?” Baptiste asked lightly, catching Jack’s eyes in the mirror.Jack didn’t even realize he was smiling but yeah, there it was on his face, the soft curve of his lips. He just shook his head; couldn’t explain it.“Mm-hmm, just smiling then.”
Relationships: Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: Dead Dove Events





	through and through

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own.

Jack watched with interest as Baptiste began to ready things at the sink. They hadn’t started playing yet, not officially. They were past the point of discussing what they wanted to do tonight but still in preparation mode. This was about the time Jack started feeling it though, the sensations of submission slotting into the situation without either of them needing to ceremoniously initiate anything.

He leaned against the doorway as he watched, arms crossed over his bare chest. Baptiste was busy at the sink, carefully deconstructing the enema kit and cleaning it piece by piece under the running faucet. They had cleaned it thoroughly the last time they used it, but it had been sitting in the linen closet for almost two weeks now. It was best to clean it again just to be safe.

Baptiste was humming quietly while he worked, a tune Jack only recognized from hearing him hum it before. It was almost soothing in a way, bringing him down, the familiarity of it making him feel safe.

“What are you smiling about?” Baptiste asked lightly, catching Jack’s eyes in the mirror.

Jack didn’t even realize he was smiling but yeah, there it was on his face, the soft curve of his lips. He just shook his head; couldn’t explain it.

“Mm-hmm, just smiling then.” Baptiste was all finished with rinsing the equipment. Everything was wet, beaded over with water, sitting on the counter. “Are we just going to clean you out? Or you want a nice big enema for fun?”

If he was being completely honest with himself Jack kind of liked enemas. They weren’t his favorite thing in the world, but they certainly had their appeal. He always had one before sex; just a small bulb enema. Those were more necessary than fun, though. If he was going to take one no matter what... why not have fun with it?

He appraised the size of the clear vinyl bag. “Well, not too big ...and not too much soap.” There was nothing fun about either of those things.

“Not too big, not too soapy.” Baptiste nodded. “Alright, Goldilocks, I got you. Go set a towel down and kneel for me.”

Jack felt a tiny thrill of pleasure glimmering down in the pit of his stomach from the pet name and the clear orders, both of which appealed to him. He went to the linen closet and picked out the biggest, softest, most absorbent towel in there. He laid it out over the tiled floor. He didn’t expect any spills, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. He stripped off his pants and his boxers and knelt down square in the center of the towel. 

Without thinking he settled into ‘first position’; seated on his heels with his hands behind his back, gripping his wrists. Baptiste liked him like this with his chest all puffed out. Jack could almost feel hands wrapping around his upper ribcage, imagined thumbs circling over his nipples, sensations easily conjured up by his memories of all the times Baptiste had groped him that exact way before. _God, Morrison, those tits_ , he would groan, exasperated in the best way. Jack found himself smiling again without meaning to.

Baptiste was always making him smile. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how this tall, dark and handsome man had ended up in his life. Not just in his life but he was now, somehow, the person Jack trusted and cared about the most.

Somewhat embarrassingly, they had met on a dating app. Dating app was a bit generous, it was more for explicit gay hook-ups than dates. Jack didn’t think anything would actually come of it. He was honest about his age, and he was old enough that he was sure no one would be interested in him. He also hadn’t posted any pictures of his face, for privacy reasons and because the scars put some people off.

As expected the first few responses he got were young guys calling him daddy, asking him what kind of filthy things he’d do while topping them, or implying he ought to pay lots of money for the pleasure of their company. He didn’t fault them for their approach, but it was so far and away from what he was looking for… he nearly gave up on the whole thing. Until he matched with Baptiste.

Jack still remembered his profile picture, a completely disarming photo of him relaxing in a hammock on a beach somewhere with crystal clear blue water in the background. He had a drink in his hand and a pair of teal and orange swim trunks. There was only one other photo; a group shot of him in digital camouflage pants and a black shirt, standing around with other men dressed the same, implying military service. 

When they first started chatting, that was mostly what they discussed. Where they served, what branch, and when; innocuous little conversations about their time in the armed forces. Jack liked talking to him well enough but didn’t think they were meant to be or anything. Boy, was he wrong.

Baptiste was the one to suggest they meet up for drinks with the clear implication of sex afterwards. So, they met. Jack was sure Baptiste would turn him down once they saw each other in real life. He’d get a look at Jack’s scars, or see how old he looked in person, and that would be the end of it. They’d have a few drinks, they’d clink glasses, and they’d go their separate ways.

Except the minute Baptiste laid eyes on him, he smiled so big and so fondly that Jack knew he was done for before he even sat down at the bar. They went back to Baptiste’s apartment, a humble bachelor pad lacking in personal touches, but a nice enough place. There, they fucked three times in one night.

Jack got his ass pounded in ways he hadn’t in years. Drilled into the mattress, sweat dripping from their bodies, unabashed moaning, fucking so hard they damn near broke the bedframe. Baptiste was completely unfiltered with his compliments, running his mouth the entire time; “so hot,” “so amazing,” “your ass is so perfect, so tight,” “God, Morrison, those tits,” “do you know how good you feel, baby?”

It felt so good to be praised by him, to receive his approval, to be Baptiste’s baby. Jack knew he was well past his prime, old enough to be Baptiste’s father, but baby was still his favorite thing to be called. There was a fondness in it, and a sense of ownership. It hit him just right. 

Jack still craved those compliments, addicted to the soft accent and warm voice. He would do just about anything to hear Baptiste say those things. That was how he ended up kneeling on a towel, smiling like a dope even though they hadn’t even done anything yet. Just the thought of being obedient for Baptiste was making him feel good.

From his vantage point on the floor Jack watched as Baptiste began to fill the enema bag with warm water from the sink. He added an appropriately modest amount of soap and the running faucet churned up frothy bubbles. He let more and more water pour in until the clear bag was completely full and absolutely bulging.

“What happened to 'not too big’?” Jack asked.

Baptiste turned the faucet off, a welcome quiet settling over the bathroom. “You don’t have to take the whole thing, baby. Just as much as you want.”

Ah, well. That made sense.

Baptiste checked the connection of the hose and the nozzle, ensuring there were no leaks, and bled out any air. With everything set and ready to go he brought the enema bag over to the towel rack and hung it there. He paused to run his fingers through Jack’s silvering hair, stroking through the soft strands. His hands were damp, but they were warm and felt good. Jack closed his eyes, not even pretending to hide his interest as he followed Baptiste’s touch.

“Look at you, all soft and sweet for me already,” Baptiste purred, voice dipping low in the same way it always did when he was especially pleased. “What kind of lube do you want?”

“Water-based, please,” Jack requested, endlessly appreciative that Baptiste cared enough about these things to give him a choice.

Baptiste went to retrieve the lubricant from the cabinet under the sink. There were a few disorganized baskets of toiletries and cleaning supplies stored down there, and it took him a few moments to find the right lube. 

“Hands and knees,” he ordered as he walked back over.

Jack obeyed. He got himself comfortable on all fours, positioned perfectly on top of the towel. All those soft inklings of submission, fuzzy around the edges of his awareness, became impossible to ignore. It was hard to feel anything other than subservient when he was down on the floor, following orders, offering his body up like this. They still hadn’t started playing yet, not really. Prep always got him there anyway, took him to a place where Baptiste could snap his fingers and they could begin, and he didn’t even have to shift his mindset in the slightest.

Baptiste crouched down behind him. “Help me out here, baby,” he requested. “Reach back and spread yourself open for me.”

Jack complied, shifting his weight to one arm as he reached back with the other to tug on his cheek, showing his hole off. No matter how many times he’d done this before, it was always a little embarrassing. Embarrassing, but also filthy and hot in just the right way.

“Yeah, just like that,” Baptiste mused appreciatively.

The approval settled hot and pleasant in the pit of Jack’s stomach.

Slightly embarrassing though it may be, this was one of Jack’s favorite positions to be in. He felt kind of sexy whenever he was exposed like this. ‘Sexy’ seemed such a silly word to use, one that really couldn’t and shouldn’t apply to him. Before he met Baptiste, he’d never really felt sexy.

Not when he was twenty-two and in the best shape of his life, gleaming muscles and picturesque youth. Not when men and women would hit on him whenever he went out to a bar. Not when they touched his biceps and teased him about how big and tall he was. Not even during sex when whoever he was fucking that night took him from behind and grunted about how great his ass looked. He’d felt good about himself during those times, confident in his looks, appreciated and lusted after... but he didn’t feel sexy.

Not like when he was on all fours with his ass on display and Baptiste’s eyes raking over him, taking in his bare skin, reaching out to touch him reverently. That’s when he felt it, this kick in his gut like _yeah_. He was Baptiste’s _baby_ , sexy and submissive and so fucking turned on by it all. 

Baptiste gave a quick word of warning before spreading the slick lubricant over Jack’s exposed hole. He plunged his juicy-wet fingers in, making sure everything was coated inside. Jack moaned helplessly.

No matter how many times he’d been fingered, toyed with, and fucked he was still sensitive back there. It just felt so good. He could easily spend hours just like this, or preferably laying over Baptiste’s lap, getting fingered. Not even necessarily having his prostate played with. Just the steady drag of fingers sliding in and out of his hole, the odd pleasure of being entered and opened again and again, the delightful sensation of two fingers twisting around inside of him. He could feel his cock stiffening as he thought about it.

"Ready?” Baptiste asked him, sliding his fingers out.

“Yeah,” Jack breathed.

The next thing he felt was the nozzle entering him, slick with lube. It was one of those purposely phallic cock-shaped nozzles found in sex shops and online, not one of the thin plastic tubes found in the pharmacy aisle with the rest of the enema supplies. It wasn’t large enough that he needed any extensive stretching to take it, just steady pressure and it breached him, sliding right in. He groaned happily, always pleased to take something up his ass.

“Alright, you can let go.” Baptiste gave the back of his hand a tap. Jack ceased his spreading and went back to all fours. “How’s that feel?”

“Feels good.”

“Good.” Baptiste’s hand slid over the soft flesh of Jack’s backside, caressing him gently. “I’ll start the water now. Let me know if it stops feeling good.”

“Yes, sir.” The second word slipped out unintentionally. This was all still just prep, not play. There was no need for ‘yes, sir’ing yet.

Jack heard the unmistakable click of the clamp being undone. He felt it immediately as warm water began to spread into his body, a delicious heat that filled him from the inside. He couldn’t help the soft, embarrassingly breathy moan that escaped him. Baptiste continued stroking over his skin, a touch both soothing and grounding. Jack closed his eyes, breathing through the first few moments of the enema.

All at once he felt a twist of pain in his right side, just a little pinch. Two lines of concern formed between his eyebrows. “Ah.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Cramp.”

Baptiste stopped the flow immediately, clamping the hose to keep any more water from moving through it. “Where’s it hurt, baby?” He asked.

“Here.” Jack indicated his right side, just under his ribs. Baptiste began massaging his body there with purpose, fingers digging in to try and ease away the ache. This was the nature of enemas, of course. All that water racing into him, filling him up, expanding his inner walls. Cramps were all part of the process.

He liked a little pain, emphasis on a little; some spanking, a large but reasonable insertion, some scratching, a little biting. He was mostly into this for the mental aspects though, the headspace, the act of letting go, forgetting all his worries and just being good for Baptiste. The cramping pain that came with enemas was just mild enough that he could enjoy it, the same way he enjoyed having teeth sink into his skin or his ass slapped

“Okay,” he allowed after the ache eased. “We can keep going.”

Baptiste started the flow up again and more water poured into his body. There was an underlying urge to go to the bathroom; to purge himself of all this water settled inside where it shouldn’t be. It took some discipline to sit still, to keep from squirming, and to ignore that urge to go. Thankfully, Jack was rich in supply of discipline.

The ever-constant stroking of Baptiste’s hand was welcome and very much wanted. He mostly smoothed his palm up and down Jack’s backside, sometimes dipping down to the backs of his thighs. He started up that humming of his again, the same tune as before. It was calming but then again, his presence always was calming as far as Jack was concerned.

Jack spoke up after a while. “I’m starting to get full.”

“Yeah?” Baptiste’s hand slid up, over his hip, around his side and underneath to feel the soft convex curve of his stomach. It wasn’t much. It would take a much larger enema to make him bulge, but there was a slight distention there. “You took about half the bag. Can you take a little more?”

Jack made a deliberative noise. He probably could. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to. It wasn’t painful yet, but it could get there quickly and easily. “Maybe… if you slow it down a little.”

“Anything my baby wants," Baptiste assured.

Jack’s heart stutter-stepped, always quickening to the sound of those two specific words; my baby. Not just baby, which anyone could be, but _Baptiste’s baby_. The ownership, the belonging, it made him feel good in ways he couldn’t quite describe. They usually saved that kind of talk for scenes, once the playing started, but Jack had been slipping in _sir_ s here and there. Baptiste certainly couldn’t be faulted for doing the same.

Baptiste adjusted the clamp, not fully blocking the water off but pinching the hose enough to impede the flow. This way it would enter into Jack a little slower and give him time to adjust to the large volume of water filling him up. He honestly couldn’t tell the difference. All he knew was he felt this massive unending warmth growing inside of him.

"How about a distraction?” Baptiste asked slyly, reaching for the lube he’d set aside.

A distraction, huh?

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“You feel like starting now?”

“Now?” Despite the vague hints of surprise in his tone he wasn’t opposed in the slightest. He was good and ready; he had been since he’d gotten on his hands and knees. If Baptiste wanted to start then he was more than willing to start too.

“Since we’re emptying you out, how about I empty those balls of yours.” - Jack couldn’t help the quiet whimper that escaped him. - “That way you’re not raring to go when we take things to the other room. You okay with that? I know we didn’t talk about this before, so you can say no. It’s all good.”

It’s all good. Of course it was. Everything was always good with Baptiste. Jack wasn’t concerned, he didn’t feel like anything was being sprung on him. He was open to the change in plan. It sounded like something he definitely wanted to do.

“I want to,” Jack said.

“Okay, baby. From now until we’re done, you’re going to address me as sir. Alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack agreed.

“This ass.” He grabbed a handful of Jack’s cheek, squeezing. “And that cock of yours? Those are all mine until we’re done. You don’t get to touch either unless I say so.”

Jack moaned, happily relinquishing ownership of his body over.

And just like that, the real play had begun.

“Spread your knees.”

Jack complied readily, fully aware of the cock-shaped enema nozzle still sticking out of him, the heavy hang of his fuzzy balls and the half hard cock rising to attention between his spread thighs. He heard the click of the cap popping off the lube, and the wet noises of Baptiste coating his hand. He reached between Jack’s legs, taking hold of his thickening erection.

Jack groaned helplessly, body responding all on its own to the feel of a warm, wet hand wrapped around his cock. He found himself clenching involuntarily, hole tightening around the hard nozzle inside of him. It made him all too aware of how full of water he was, and the subsequent groan that followed held a shade less pleasure than the first.

“You can come whenever you want.” Baptiste gave him permission. “Sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, sir.”

With Baptiste’s helpful stroking, it definitely would be sooner rather than later. He had enough practice handling Jack’s cock; he knew exactly how Jack liked it. He went slow and languid at first, milking more than anything, but steadily picked up the pace. Wet noises accompanied each movement. They were the only noises in the bathroom besides Jack’s labored breathing and occasional moaning.

Jack’s fingers curled up into fists, gripping the terrycloth towel like a lifeline. Everything was coming together. The all-encompassing full feeling of the enema, the nozzle inserted pleasantly inside of him, the sweet sensations of submission that had been blooming for a while now, and Baptiste’s intimate knowledge of Jack’s body. Jack found himself gasping out desperate little noises with each stroke.

“How are you holding up with that enema?” Baptiste asked, hand not faltering for a second.

“Fuck.” The distraction had worked. Jack’s attention was elsewhere, on the growing pleasure of his climax rising from this incredible, silky-slick handjob. The question brought him back and reminded him of just how intense holding all this water felt. “It’s a lot, sir.”

“I’m going to turn it off.” Baptiste decided, making the decision on Jack’s behalf. Jack was just fine with that. Even better, Baptiste could do it with his free hand and he didn’t need to stop jerking him off.

“There’s only about a sixth left.” Baptiste said, regarding the amount of water remaining in the clear vinyl bag. He sounded impressed. “What is that… about a whole quart inside of you? Not bad, baby. Can you come with your ass that full?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack gasped.

Baptiste laughed, all warm and fond. “What am I talking about? Of course you can. You love being stuffed full, isn’t that right?”

As if those words weren’t hot enough on their own, he decided to focus his efforts on the sensitive head of Jack’s cock. He teased it with short strokes, quick and purposeful. It was a thrum of extra pleasure that made Jack tense. He whimpered out his agreement, eagerly nodding his head.

“Alright then, let’s see it. Come for me.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He hadn’t quite mastered coming on command yet, but he was already almost there. The pleasant pressure of his orgasm was all welled up inside of him, swelling deep within, spurred on by the pressure of the enema filling his insides. All it took was a few more seconds of Baptiste’s warm, wet fingers sliding rapidly back and forth over his cock’s head.

All the buildup seemed to burst out of him, an explosive eruption of an orgasm. Raw pleasure raced through his whole body, singing through his veins. His hole clenched involuntarily down on the enema nozzle again and again. He cried out gently as Baptiste stroked him through it, slowing it down to make the climax last. Come spurted hot and wet on the towel beneath them.

“There you go,” Baptiste purred. “That’s my baby.”

Another flicker of pleasure rolled through Jack, the reaction he always had to Baptiste calling him that, and it sent another shuddering wave of relief through his cock, prolonging his orgasm by another few blissful seconds.

Baptiste stopped stroking him and all at once reality came to invade the perfect bliss he’d been feeling. Jack hung his head, catching his breath, suddenly very aware of the enema sitting heavily inside of him… and just how much he wanted it out of his body.

“Alright?”

Jack groaned. “I can’t hold this enema any longer.”

Baptiste made a gentle noise of both agreement and understanding. “Let’s get this nozzle out of you.” He said.

He carefully removed it, stiff plastic sliding out of Jack’s hole. He went slow enough as not to startle or cause any undue discomfort. Removing it didn’t offer much relief, but it was a good start.

Jack was helped up to his feet, knees aching a little from being on all fours on the hard tile with only a towel for padding. Baptiste took the bag, along with the attached hose and nozzle, to the sink. 

“I’ll be waiting for you in the other room. Take as much time as you need.” He left the bathroom after that, closing the door behind him, awarding Jack the much-needed privacy that expelling an enema required.

By the time he finished getting rid of the enema he felt wrung out in more ways than one. Not in a bad way, but it had definitely taken the edge off. He felt clean too, the way brushing his teeth or a cool shower on a hot day made him feel clean. It was a nice feeling and one of those things about enemas that made them well worth the effort.

It was more than just being wrung out, though: more than just being clean. He felt good. Appreciated by Baptiste. Cared for by him. He felt like Baptiste’s baby, through and through. They had only just started and he was on a high. 

He was smiling again, unable to help himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> send requests or prompts ➝ [here](https://curiouscat.me/deathtouch)  
> follow me on twitter ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)  
> thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆


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